The Last Homely Nuthouse of Middle Earth
by padawanjinx
Summary: Erestor and Glorfindel are unwilling participants to the latest prank of the Imladris twins. Chaos ensues. Can Lord Elrond find a cure, or will the two advisors remain inflicted forever?


**The Last Homely Nuthouse of Middle Earth**

Rating: G

Characters: Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir, Erestor, Glorfindel, and possibly a OC here and there, but they wont be the center of attention.

Summary: Erestor and Glorfindel are unwilling participants to the latest prank of the Imladris twins. Chaos ensues.

Archive: If ya want it, give me a yell and ask, and I shall grant permission. :D

Feedback: Is greatly appreciated and craved. If you think this deserves other chapters, let me know. I am willing to expand on a couple things and do a couple more scenes, but ONLY if there is call for it. There are other things I want to write, so if this is a popular fic, then I shall elaborate further on what the twins got into. If not, I will concentrate my efforts on the other fics in progress.

Special thanks to El, who puts up with all my ramblings and bullshit. I'm surprised she is still sane. g Thanks to all reviewers! You all ROCK!

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"Why me?" Lord Elrond asked no one in particular. His day had started out normally enough, going the rounds of the healing wing and checking in on ailing patients. However, as midday neared and passed, he was surrounded by chaos. Not only were his twin sons acting up, as is usual with the pair, but their latest practical joke had involved his two advisors. Usually calm and serene, Lords Erestor and Glorfindel were the perfect picture of Elven tranquility and perfection. Both were able warriors, though Glorfindel was more renown for his Balrog slaying than Erestor's thirst for slaying orcs during his adventurous times of yen. Both were well versed, knowing many ancient texts by heart, and in Glorfindel's case, experiencing the history first hand when he was but an elfling.

Now, unfortunately, the two were the unwilling participants in Elladan and Elrohir's latest prank. After a rather dry history lesson, the twins had found an old tome with ancient 'medicines' and had decided that their teachers needed some reprieve. What the troublesome twosome had not counted on was that wine tripled the effects, and had spiked more than one bottle of the teachers' stash.

As Glorfindel and Erestor sat to enjoy some wine with their midday meal, they could not help but to open more than one bottle, indulging in their drink more than normal. As the drug began to circulate in their systems, their behavior became erratic and extremely playful, which lead to the discovery of the prank. Elladan and Elrohir had admitted to their father what they had done, though it was obvious who was behind the 'attack,' as they were the only ones who found such enjoyments in terrorizing the Imladris population. After lengthy apologies, which concluded with Glorfindel laughing uncontrollably at the situation and Erestor deciding that that particular moment was the perfect time to compose a sonnet, the twins' punishment was swift. Both were now ordered to the attendees of the healing wing while their father looked up an antidote, much to Erestor and Glorfindel's continued amusement.

Elrond rubbed his temples, his eyes unfocused on the parchments in front of him. He read the same paragraph four times, and still the words did not make sense. Knowing that his friends would not want anyone to see them in such giddy, child-like conditions, Elrond had ordered both to their rooms until a cure could be found. A mixture was concocted from the offending text, but its counteragent was proven most unhelpful. Elrond surmised that the wine had altered enough of the compounds to render the antidote now ineffective.

Unfortunately, his supply of energy and texts were running low, and unless he found the answers quickly, Glorfindel and Erestor would have to continue in their manner locked in their rooms. From the last report by a page standing guard by the advisors quarters, the two were fairing well, though occasionally bickering like siblings, which Elrond found highly amusing.

Elrond frowned and looked at his parchments once again, feeling his eyes burn with tiredness. He sighed and narrowed his eyes, determined to make it through the last few chapters of the ancient text, when a scuffling noise drew his attention away from the yellowing parchment. The noise grew louder and eventually a bedraggled elf staggered into the library, panting and clutching at his chest.

"My...My Lord," the elf panted as his knees buckled and he slid down the door facing. "My Lord, you are needed in the healing wing."

"My sons are attending to those that are recovering while I am searching the scrolls for some answers," Elrond said with a bit of concern over the elf's flushed face. "Are you feeling well, Almandir?"

"Yes... Yes I am fine," Almandir gasped and waved a dismissive hand. "I am not the one to be concerned over. Forgive me for intruding on your search, My Lord, but I believe you should assist your sons in the healing wing."

"What ever for?" Elrond asked with a touch of annoyance. "They have trained by my hand for many millennia, they know as much as I."

"That may be so," Almandir panted, his breath finally evening out, "But Lord's Glorfindel and Erestor are with them now, and the last I saw, Master Erestor was being carried to the healers."

"Carried?" Elrond shot up from his seat and with a few quick strides, gained the panting page's side, "Why was he being carried?"

"I know not, My Lord," Almandir said, "But there was blood on Lord Glorfindel's tunics."

Without another word, Elrond flew past the page and dashed down his halls. Though he chastised the twins many times for this very act, Elrond remembered the twins' protesting and explanations. Now, with hindsight, the Lord of Imladris thought he may be more lenient in the future. Elrond raced passed strolling elves, over a bridge, through two more halls, until finally he slowed at the doorway that lead into the healing wing. When he entered, he felt his blood run cold, his eyes frozen to the scene before him.

Erestor was laying motionless on one of the beds, his hair matted to his head by what was quickly identified as blood. Elladan was frowning as he leapt through a large text, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. Elrohir was physically holding Glorfindel to a chair, having the age-old advisor positioned on his lap and a firm hold around the struggling elf's midsection. Elrohir constantly repeated _'Calm down'_ in a soothing mantra, but Glorfindel either did not hear him, or chose to ignore his words as he continued to struggle spitefully.

"What in the name of Arda is going on?" Elrond demanded when he regained his senses and briskly entered the room.

Elladan looked up from his book, his mouth open and eyes wide in a horrified expression, "Tis nothing, Ada. Return to the library and..."

"I will do no such thing until I have gained answers," Elrond stormed, his eyes dark and glaring at his eldest, "What has happened?"

"Elrond, they could hear you in Valinor," Erestor moaned, his hand clutching his head. He winced and withdrew his hand, frowning at the red stain on his fingers and glared over at Glorfindel, who was still being restrained by Elrohir, "You whore of Mordor! What possessed your mind to do such a thing?"

Elrond stood speechless, gazing from one advisor to the other, clearly at a loss at what transpired. He hastily pulled some rolled bandages from Elladan's slack grip and seated himself on Erestor's bedside, "I want a full explanation of what happened, and I want it now!"

Glorfindel stopped struggling long enough to scowl at Erestor's comment, then give Elrond a haughty look, "I do not know what you are talking about."

Elrond felt his patience wear thin, "The truth will be spoken, or I will ensure that neither will open their mouths for a very long time."

Erestor winced as Elrond shifted through his tangled hair, inspecting the wound that was still readily bleeding, "It was all of Glorfindel's fault."

Glorfindel's eyes flared violently, and he resumed his struggling, "It was not my fault, you son of Sauron!"

Erestor snarled and tried to advance, but with his head trauma and the stern Elf Lord sitting beside him, he sagged in Elrond's arms and cried out in pain. Elrond frowned and noticed a discoloration along Erestor's neck, and when the Lord of Imladris pulled the advisors collar down to expose further bruising, he turned accusatory eyes to Glorfindel.

"What happened?" Elrond snapped.

Glorfindel stopped struggling against Elrohir and gave Elrond a confused look, "My Lord, in all honesty, I do not know what happened."

"Liar," Erestor mumbled, being positioned upright by Elrond, who less-than-gently began to cleanse the wound on the back of the advisors head with the astringent Elladan provided.

"Erestor, tell me what happened, and do not test my patience further, for it is at its end," Elrond commanded sternly.

Erestor winced as Elrond's astringent bubbled out the bacteria, and the elf lord wiped the froth away and checked to see if the skin needed stitching. Erestor hissed and mumbled something incoherently.

"Speak plainly," Elrond snapped, deciding that the wound wasn't deep enough to require stitches but deep enough to give the advisor something to think on.

Erestor grimaced and said with a pouty voice, "I was under my bed... playing..."

"Erestor?" Elrond gaped.

"What?" the advisor asked, whimpering and gingerly touching his head.

"You were under your bed?" Elrond's jaw went slack as he stared at his elder advisor.

"Yes," Erestor said irritably, "Playing by myself..."

"What were you playing?" Elrond asked astonished.

Erestor gave the Lord an annoyed look, "Dwarf digger and the elfling."

Elrond rolled his eyes. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged amused expressions. Glorfindel looked highly agitated and began to struggle against Elrohir again.

"So you were under your bed," Elrond recounted, trying to keep his voice calm and even.

"Playing,' Erestor added, then cast a vicious look to Glorfindel. "When the troll decided to interrupt by jumping on the bed and scaring me half to death!"

"Troll? You sorry..." Glorfindel kicked Elrohir in the shin, causing the younger elf to yelp and release his hostage. Glorfindel lunged at Erestor, snarling obscenities that had every elf within hearing distance blushing a deep shade of crimson.

Elrond stood to intercept his chief advisor and was knocked off his feet by the flying blonde. Glorfindel collided with Elrond, his face drawn in anger, his teeth bared as he tumbled over the Lord of Imladris and made for the fleeing Erestor.

Elrond's vision was temporarily obscured by a mass of blonde hair, then felt the wind knocked out of him as the blonde advisor scrambled over him. Growling, the Elf Lord wrapped his arms around the slender form and rendered him immobile so he could calm down and answer questions.

Glorfindel was snapping angrily, "You were the one that told me to jump on the bed and charge at you!"

Erestor was leaning against the wall, clutching his side with a shaky hand and holding his throbbing head as his vision wobbled, "I said to charge at the elfing..."

Glorfindel amended, "Which is you."

Erestor moaned and rested his head against the wall to prevent his swirling vision from his head trauma, "I said to pretend to be scary and pretend to attack me." Another moan escaped Erestor's lips as his head gave a particularly nasty throb, "I did not mean to break my bed over my head."

Elrond glanced from senior advisor against the wall to the senior advisor in his arms, unable to comprehend what the full story was, "Glorfindel, you broke Erestor's bed?"

"Yes," Erestor said, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "He jumped on it, thrashing and screaming like an orc in heat, and when he started bouncing on it, the frame snapped."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged knowing grins, remembering the time their own beds had collapsed from their bouncing on the mattresses. The twin beds were broken beyond repair, and for their abuse of the furniture, their father had given both a good spanking. The twins shifted uncomfortably as the memory surfaced, and subconsciously grabbed their backsides.

"You were bouncing on the bed?" Elrond asked. He still could not picture his advisors, so upper class and refined, doing such childish behavior, but then again, neither were in their normal frame of mind from the prank.

Glorfindel watched Erestor with narrowed eyes and stopped his struggling against Elrond, "I merely did what was asked."

Erestor groaned and slid down the wall, "I did not ask you to break the bed. I wanted you to be scary."

"And I was not?" Glorfindel asked with a cocked brow.

"Aye, that you were," Erestor snickered. "But the next time I ask you to do such a thing, please remind me to not be near any heavy objects."

"Or under them," Glorfindel grinned and started to shake from laughter.

Elrond released his captive and glared from elf to elf, "Glorfindel, since you broke the bed, you are responsible for its repair or its replacement."

Glorfindel bowed his head, "I shall, My Lord."

"Wait a minute," Elladan said, standing shoulder to shoulder with Elrohir, "Why is it when they break a bed and do bad things, they are not punished?"

Elrond glared at his twins and said with a low menacing growl, "You were old enough to know better."

"And they are not?" Elrohir tapped his foot impatiently. "Ada, they are older than even you!"

Elrond gave his sons an icy stare that had sent many enemies running for cover, "If it were not for the drug running through their bodies, they would not have acted as such. Since they are affected by that _'medicine'_ as you called it, they are not responsible for their actions. And as for the two of you questioning my judgment, I believe that a year of cleaning out the stables and assisting in the kitchens will be sufficient to remind you who is the father, and who is the child. Do I make myself clear?"

Both twins dropped their gaze to the floor and murmured, "Yes, Ada."

"Good," Elrond huffed impatiently and folded his arms over his chest, "And could you really picture me pulling Erestor or Glorfindel over my knee and tanning their backsides?"

Elrohir snorted in an un-elflike way. Elladan seemed frozen, but as the shock of the suggestion wore off, he began to giggle. Elrond quirked his brow at his sons and, after glancing at Glorfindel, who was by far, larger in stature, he gave his sons a look of trepidation. The twins snickered while the joke was lost on the two advisors.

"Erestor," Elrond commanded, then strode to the injured elf when he barely responded, "I believe you have learned a valuable lesson from this. I hope that you shall keep it fresh in your mind if you ever decide to act so foolishly."

Erestor favored Elrond with a lopsided smile, "Lesson has been learned, my Lord."

Elrond frowned, noting the uneven pupils of his chief councilor and sighed, "Come, Erestor. You need to lie down and allow me to tend to your wounds. I fear you have suffered a severe concussion."

Erestor nodded and allowed the Elf Lord to assist him to his feet, but he wobbled precariously and felt the world began to spin. With a whimper he fell into unconsciousness.

Elrond caught Erestor before he hit the ground and gentle scooped the limp elf in his arms and placed him on the bed. Glorfindel stood, looking sadly down at his friend and watched as the Elf Lord began to clean and dress the wounds. When all wounds were bound, Glorfindel sat on the side of Erestor's bed, his gaze sorrowful.

"How is he?" Glorfindel's voice was hushed.

"I have given him something to reduce swelling and induce a deep sleep," Elrond said, checking Erestor's half-lidded eyes. "He will slumber for some time. Do you wish to remain?"

Glorfindel nodded, "If I may."

"Of course," Elrond said, then motioned to his sons, "If he awakens or has any problems, do not hesitate to send for me, I will be in the library with my sons."

Glorfindel nodded, not catching the defeated look exchanged between the Peredhil sons.

"Come Elladan, Elrohir," Elrond said, motioning to the door, "We have many hours of studying ahead of us tonight."

Twin groans answered their father as they retreated, leaving two advisors to their peace.

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What ya think? Shall I write another chapter or leave as is? It was meant for a laugh and have people to wonder, 'Could that possibly happen?'... the answer is.. YES! LOL

Also, I know that people aren't supposed to sleep after a concussion, but this is elves we're talking about and Elrond knows all kinds of mixtures to aid in healing. A good long nap is exactly what the Peredhil prescribed! ;)


End file.
